When A Short Story Leads To A Poem
by xXxInspirational-ThoughtsxXx
Summary: Stan needs help with homework. Short-Story writing it is to complicated for him. When Kyle comes to help he finds a poem Stan has written, about there friendship ....


**A/N: Hey, I'm new here so this is my first story ... please be nice.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park or any of the characters, Trey Parker and Matt Stone beat me to it :( But I do own this story.

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Looking out at the rain really tormented poor Stan Marsh. The colors of Grey melted his eyes away. Snow? he could handle. Rain? Just pissed him off. Sighing, Stan used his feet to slowly wheel his chair over to where he was stationed, his computer desk. He stared at the computer screen, colors of black and white met with his eyes as he looked upon a short- story he was meant to be writing. How could he concentrate? His ears only picked up the sounds of rain hitting against his tin roof. Annoying.

"This is ridiculous", he said, getting aggravated.

He looked towards his phone, that sat beside him on the desk.

"I'm calling Kyle".

Picking up the phone he dialled 'one'. Kyle was on speed dial. As the phone rang he remembered how much shit Cartman gave him as to why Kyle was number one and he was number three. In which Stan replied. "You're not important enough". That of coarse pissed Cartman off and Stan had to arrive at school the next day to a rumour that states that Kyle and him where 'fags' together.

"Hello".

Stan was instantly snapped out of his thought to the sound of the Kyles voice coming from the other end.

"Hey, it's Stan".

"Hey dude, what's up?"

"I'm having trouble with my short-story assignment … could you, possibly…".

"I'll be right over".

CLANG

Silence

"What the fuck … am I that predictable?"

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Minutes later Kyle arrived and had walked over to Stans desk.

"This is hopeless Kyle, I suck at stories … totally suck", Stan whined, banging his head against his keyboard.

"Dude, chill", Kyle said smiling. "You're just not concentrating enough".

Stan grunted, stood up from his desk and threw himself on top of his bed.

Kyle rolled his eyes and made his way over, laying beside the disturbed boy.

"I suck Kyle, ok?"

"You're to hard on yourself sometimes Stan", Kyle said, putting his hand on Stans shoulders.

Sighing, Stan looked towards his ceiling, as did Kyle.

Silence … Once again.

Kyle blinked several times before his eyes wandered around the room. A common thing for him to do in positions of or quid ness or complete and utter boredom … is this case, both.

His eyes wandered briefly until noticing a piece of paper lying on Stans bedside table.

Getting up, Kyle retrieved the paper and looked at it curiously.

"What's this Stan?"

Stan turned to look at what Kyle was talking about.

"Oh, just, a poem, I guess, err, sort of dumb though".

"You write Poems?" Kyle asked, seeming somewhat shocked.

"Well, kinda, yer, I guess".

As Kyle read over it, Stan watched him closely, feeling uneasy and nervous. Know one has ever read his poetry before. He watched and became even more nervous when Kyles facial expressions changes frequently.

Ones finished reading Kyle read it again, only this time aloud.

_Popular kid, hey popular kid, whose eyes I look upon each day._

_You're known around this town so well, it seems you have each say._

_I know I'm not as worthy, as you have become to be,_

_But if I want to be noticed, please be friends with me._

_Those words are heard most often, through my mind and heart,_

_Having friends for what I am, whilst Who I am grows apart._

_The hair, the eyes, the smile and body are those that people see_

_I hate is as I hate the rain itself, they don't like me for me._

_But there is but 3 that see past my popularity,_

_And into what is me._

_Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman too, are those I cherish for my life,_

_For if they where to leave me, my skin will feel the blade of a knife._

_They where there for me, right from the beginning of time,_

_Forever and eternity, they are truly mine._

_I love them like my brothers, they love me for ME,_

_That's what friendship truly is, that's what people don't see._

_We are the south Park boys, for without us, there is no way,_

_The stupid adults in this town could make it through a day._

_My three friends are important, But best friends are more entwined_

_Mine is Kyle Broflovski, He is first that comes to mind._

_Because friendship is a gifted thing, And boy do I need is close,_

_Kyle, he's the one I care about, The one I need the most._

Stan gulped he really should of hidden that before Kyle came over.

"Um, I wrote that earlier, before I rang you".

Kyle looked amazed at Stan.

"Wow, that's pretty good".

"It Is?" Stan asked.

"Well it's not something that would become world wide. But it's good", Kyle said sitting beside Stan, still holding the poem.

Silence. Goddamit.

"Is that what you really think of me, of um us?" Kyle asked, looking at Stan questioningly.

"Dude, yes, your always there for me know matter what, I can go to you for anything, I mean look at you now, you raced over just to help me with a stupid short-story. You're a great friend, you may be short tempered… but never to me, it's like we have a connection or something. It's like God made us best friends because our parents couldn't of handle us as brothers … and dude, if I could have had the intelligence to say all that in a poem, I would have".

Kyle smiled.

"Thanks dude, that meant a lot".

Stan just shrugged.

"Whatever dude".

"Well if you have the concentration to write this, you can write your short story".

Stan sighed.

"Up you get and start typing, and Stan….".

Stan, looked over towards Kyle.

"I'll be right here, If you need help".

Stan smiled.

"Well in that case, what do you want for dinner?"

"Why?" asked Kyle".

"Because You'll be here all night".

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**A/N: Well yer, I guess that's it. My future stories will take more time and effort, I can assure you. This one was just ... well I whacked it on here to make my fanfiction profile seem more ... realistic. Yes, Doesn't make sense. sigh. Please comment.**

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